Hollow Hearts
by Nightmare Prince
Summary: Marlene tastes of strawberries and cigarettes, and it's not like any kiss he's had before. This kiss is a battle, a struggle for dominance, and it's a passion that he's always craved. Like a moth to a candle flame, he is drawn closer and closer to her, and he cards his fingers through her hair as he lets his other hand fall to support the small of her back.


**Hollow Hearts**

* * *

 _-Talk about our future, like we had a clue_

 _Never planned that one day, I'd be losing you-_

 _(Katy Perry – The One That Got Away)_

* * *

"Gryffindor!" roars the Hat, and his blood freezes in his veins.

The entire hall is silent, and even the teachers stare at him, jaws hanging agape. Lip quivering, he hops off the stool and begins the long trudge to his house table. His tie, newly striped with scarlet and gold, feels like a noose.

His cousins' gazes are daggers against his back, and he doesn't dare meet their eyes as he slumps onto the bench, his new housemates already giving him a wide berth. A creeping numbness begins to fill his veins as he contemplates his mother's reaction to the news, because her rages are as dark as her name.

He's going to bleed for this one, and he can already feel the harsh leather of his father's belt come cracking against his skin.

Finally, he looks up, something prickling in him and daring him to meet his cousins' eyes and judge the full extent of the fallout. First he sees Narcissa, who looks as surprised as the rest, and then he sees Andromeda, who wears upon her face an expression of utmost sympathy.

When he looks at Bellatrix, he feels his stomach coil like a snake. She's staring at him like a feral beast about to pounce, a sadistic glint in her eye as she waves.

He looks away, swallowing, and sliding further down the bench as a skinny, sickly looking boy joins the table.

"McKinnon, Marlene," calls Professor McGonagall. Almost instantly, he loses interest in the Sorting, because he doesn't want another reminder that he's an oddity. The McKinnons have graced Ravenclaw Tower for centuries, and he doesn't want to see another family tradition flourish whilst he unwittingly burns his to the ground.

"Gryffindor!" bellows the Hat, and he almost falls of his seat. Then he smiles, looking her straight in the eye, and clapping when nobody else does.

At least now he's not the only one.

.o0o.

"Sirius," she all but yelps, prodding at his back as he changes out of his Quidditch gear. "How'd you get those bruises?"

He stills, a shiver running down his spine as she pokes at him again and repeats the question.

"Sirius," she insists, "Tell me."

He turns, a feigned smile spreading across his cheeks as he meets her eyes, and he simply shrugs and says,

"My parents aren't as accepting as yours about me being in a different house."

.o0o.

"Fancy seeing you here."

He doesn't turn, and instead remains as still as he can with his fingers curled around the railing. The night is cool, a chill breeze teasing at his skin, but he feels himself grow unseasonably warm as he realises she's come up beside him.

"I suppose," he replies and extricates a small box from his pocket. Pulling out a fag, he offers her the box, little expecting her to accept the Malboro without a second's hesitation.

"These are really bad for you." She grins, lighting her cigarette and taking a long drag. He rolls his eyes, letting the acrid smoke flood his mouth before gently blowing it into the night.

"Says the girl who gave me my first," he retorts, his tone light.

"Oh, Sirius," she teases, nudging him in the side. "You haven't had your _first_ yet, least of all from me."

He flushes, even as a grin breaks out across his face. Ashes and embers flutter to the ground as he flicks his cigarettes and smirks.

"Why the emphasis on yourself, Marlene? Getting ideas, are we?"

She just laughs, turning back to look out across the night sky. The stars glimmer across the dark expanse, and he can see her eyes tracing each and every pattern. He glances up, easily picking out his own star, Sirius, the dog that follows the hunter, Orion.

It's somewhat ironic that he, named for the faithful follower, bears no true loyalty to his father, or the House of Black.

"I was never one for Astronomy," she replies, resting her head against his shoulder. "But I always liked the star Nymphadora. It's one of those obscure ones, but it's really beautiful."

"Yeah, she is," he says, ignoring the thudding of his heart as she looks up at him in surprise, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. Drawing on his Gryffindor courage, he closes the distance between them and presses his lips to hers, capturing them in the softest of kisses.

Marlene tastes of strawberries and cigarettes, and it's not like any kiss he's had before. This kiss is a battle, a struggle for dominance, and it's a passion that he's always craved. Like a moth to a candle flame, he is drawn closer and closer to her, and he cards his fingers through her hair as he lets his other hand fall to support the small of her back.

.o0o.

"Sirius," she whispers. Her lips ghost along his bare skin, trailing down his spine, and he hisses as each kiss falls upon a mottled mark of black and blue.

"Father grows more violent by the day," he says, his fingers curling into the sheets as her hands find his bruises. They're so sensitive that it hurts to wear a shirt, and he hasn't had the chance to heal himself for the entire Easter holiday.

The salve she rubs into them is cool, a strange bliss spreading across his back, and he sighs, biting his lip to keep from yelping whenever she presses too hard. He feels her hands slipping down his frame, delicately running over his skin in search of more injuries, until at last she reaches the hem of his jeans.

His legs are always the worst, and he swallows a scream as she tugs them off. She's gentle, as always, but the rough denim is murder against the raised welts and split skin. She gasps, and he can tell she's shocked, because in the two years that she's been doing this, it's never been this bad.

"Sirius," she says, spreading the balm across his wounds, her tears spilling onto the small of his back. "You can't keep going back to that place. They're killing you."

"Just two more years," he replies, and his voice sounds tired even to his ears. "Then I'll be of age, Marlene, and I'll be free."

.o0o.

"Whoa," he gasps, falling back against his pillows. It's the only word he can use to describe it, the sensation of giving himself over to Marlene, utterly and completely. Naked, and beginning to feel vaguely self-conscious now that the Firewhisky is burning out of his veins, he blushes as she snuggles into his side.

"Whoa indeed," she giggles. "If I can't sit a broom tomorrow, you're the one who's going to answer to James, OK?"

"I'll hit him with a Bludger if he dares say a word," Sirius replies, grinning, as she rests her head on his chest, her hair fanning out across his skin.

She laughs, sending vibrations across his being, and he can't help but think of how right it feels to simply spoon with her in post-coital bliss.

.o0o.

"I er, see a lot of er, passion in this, it's really abstract," she comments. "This blur here seems to symbolise blood, and then this here is like a really nice take on the evils of the world."

"Marlene, relax, I know I can't draw," he interrupts, grinning as he wraps his arms around her waist.

"Oh thank Merlin," she laughs, "What the hell is this supposed to be?"

"A bowl of fruit."

"Well, it looks more like a hippogriff had angry sex with a bowl of fruit, but I think I see it."

.o0o.

He hisses, fighting to keep himself still as she works above him. It's a lengthy process, and he's already getting antsy, even though it's only been half an hour since they began.

The steel-tipped quill scratches against his bare shoulder, and he feels a trickle of wetness running down his arm. Biting into the pillow to keep from yelping, he feels a soft, damp cloth being run across the blood.

"Are you done?" he whimpers, turning his head to meet her gaze. She smiles wanly, holding the quill in one hand and the ink bottle in the other, and shakes her head.

"We can stop if you want to, Sirius," she says.

"No," he murmurs, "Go on."

She nods, and brings the quill to his shoulder again, only stopping an hour later when the tattoo is done.

Looking over his shoulder as she dabs at it with a cloth soaked in Murtlap Essence, he tilts his head up at an uncomfortable angle to press his lips to hers.

.o0o.

He feels her shake her head against his shoulders, hers arms like a vice around him, and he fights back the urge to laugh. She's fearless when she's on a broomstick, but somehow, she's terrified of his flying motorcycle. It's silly and a paradox, but it's just so Marlene that he can't help but love her more for it.

"You're missing out on one hell of a view," he says, wincing as her arms tighten, and it's as though his organs are being squeezed like sponges. He's surprised she doesn't snap him in half by accident, but then his thoughts are cut off by her voice against his ear.

"I'm scared of being up so high," she whispers.

He freezes, incredulous, not understanding what it is that she's getting at, because he's seen her fly her broomstick half a hundred times or more.

"Since when are you afraid of heights, Marlene?"

"It's not the height. It's that I'm terrified of falling."

"Open your eyes, Marlene, I'll never let you fall," he whispers, and her gasp of amazement is all the confirmation he needs.

.o0o.

"Sirius," she asks, prodding at his back with her wand. "Do we have any peanut butter at home? The extra chunky kind."

"I think so," he replies in a hushed voice, looking at her as though she's lost her mind. They're in an abandoned building, spying on a group of Death Eaters and Dementors through two pairs of Omnioculars, and she's asking about their peanut butter supplies?

Maybe that stomach bug she's gotten is a little worse than they thought.

"And pickles? I remember buying pickles at the store last week, so we're good there. I'm just really feeling for some pickles and peanut butter right now."

He frowns, shaking his head. He'll drag her, kicking and screaming if need be, to James for a check-up tomorrow. It would be good for them both . . . Marlene so she could come to terms with her unnatural tastes and random bouts of crankiness, whilst James could finally have a patient again.

Since going into hiding, his best mate has been going mad without his work to keep him occupied.

"I wonder if we have any chocol– no, Remus was around this past weekend," she comments, and it sounds like she's talking to herself more than to him. "There's probably no chocolate left on the entire street."

"You're going to give away our position," he hisses, nudging her. He freezes, his elbow knocking over a pile of cinderblocks, and the Death Eaters whip around, no doubt catching sight of them in the window.

Jets of green light flood the air, but he's already grabbing her hand and letting the suffocating blackness of Apparition take them.

.o0o.

James appears ashen as he straightens up, a frown on his face as he turns to meet his eye. Instantly, Sirius lets his mind fly to thoughts of Dragonpox, Spattergoit, and every potentially fatal illness in the world.

Instead, when the two little, yet life shattering words leave his best mate's lips, he's very nearly brought to his knees. It's as though the sun has decided to rise from the west, as if every star in the night sky has gone supernova, and as if the night itself has ceased to be dark.

He looks at her, and she's looks as terrified as he feels, but he swallows and nods, slowly stepping forward to take her hand in his own.

"A baby, huh?" he asks, his voice crackling in his throat.

"Before you even ask, I swear to Merlin, we are not naming him Sirius Junior."

.o0o.

"I'm going to be moving back in with my parents, Sirius, at least until the baby is born," she says, running her hand across his cheek as they lay side by side upon the tangled sheets.

"I know," he sighs, the resignation in his voice filling even his ears. He sighs, knowing the reason, because Death Eaters have been sighted in his neighbourhood, and it's no longer a safe place for a pregnant woman.

Even now, after three months of keeping the secret, of letting none but James, Lily, and her parents know of the pregnancy, Sirius spends his days fretting over her safety. As skilled a duellist as she is, Marlene really isn't up to doing battle with the Death Eaters whilst also fighting morning sickness.

"I love you," she whispers, her breath ghosting across his bare skin. He reaches out to draw her close, and presses his lips to her brow.

"I love you too, Marlene," he replies, and her answering kiss is sweet, delicate, and beautifully fragile.

.o0o.

The Dark Mark burns across the sky, and it's with a sickening sense of dread that he realises the star, _Sirius_ , is between the skulls leering teeth. It's just like Bellatrix to leave her little signals, and all at once the reality sets in.

He's running, and the rational part of his brain is yelling for him to stop. He doesn't, instead slashing his wand through the air to blast open the front door, but then he freezes in the doorway.

Blood.

There's so much of it that it looks like the entire room's been painted red. There are splatters across the walls, and it falls like crimson dew from the ceiling. The corpses are below, or what is left of them, and his stomach lurches as he turns away from the dismembered McKinnon family.

Then he sees her, feebly stirring, and he's at her side in a moment, hefting her into his arms. She looks like she's taken half-a-hundred stabs, and he almost instantly recognises the curse that did this.

 _Sectumsempra._

James should have let that greasy-haired git die in their fifth year.

"Marlene," he all but yells, "Marlene, stay with me." Her body trembles in his arms, slender, red ribbons running from her uncountable lacerations, and her voice is lighter than a snowflake as she whispers.

"Sirius." She coughs, a smile creeping across her lips, and he freezes at the sound of his name.

He lifts her in his arms, his arms shaking like twigs in a gale as he Apparates with her, closing his eyes to avoid the suffocating blackness. When he opens them, he's sets her down on the couch, and screams, "James!"

.o0o.

" _Diffindo_ ," stammers James, running his wand like a scalpel across Marlene's belly, and Sirius turns away, unable to stomach the sight of her being cut open.

He only turns back around when the squalling of an infant fills the room, but when he does, his first thought is that his daughter's going to grow up to be every bit as beautiful as her mother.

Then he sees Marlene, stiff and cleaved open upon the couch, and he feels bile rise to his throat. He drops to his knees, just as Lily whisks the child away to clean her up, and he lets out a dry, heaving sob.

It's his fault she's dead, he knows, because loving him is what made her a target. It's his fault, and the rest of the night passes in a blur.

The dawn crests upon the horizon, and he sighs. His daughter gurgles in his grasp, asleep, and Marlene's been returned to the McKinnon Manor. He's consigned the house to the flame, knowing that the closest relatives to the family are the Malfoys, and that old Lord McKinnon would rather spit blood than see those skinny albinos cavort about his halls.

"You need to speak to Dumbledore, Padfoot," says James, and Lily nods emphatically.

He shakes his head, because he already knows what he needs to do.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "But I can't lose her as well. _Obliviate._ " James and Lily's eyes grow blurry, and he Dissaparates before their focus can return.

So long as the world does not know about his child, she will not be hunted for the very same crime as her mother. She will not pay the price of being loved by him.

.o0o.

"Tonight, I swear I'll sell my soul to be the hero for you, Marlene" he whispers as he knocks thrice upon the door. The little bundle squirms in the crook of his elbow, and he swallows as he sees the tuft of blonde hair morph into a merry shade of pink.

It's fitting, he feels, since Marlene is an artist, seeing colour and beauty in even the ugliest of things.

The door creaks open, and his cousin appears, her eyes widening as they fall upon the child. She looks well, even though he hasn't seen her in years, and he's barely gotten a word out before she's ushering him inside.

He steps forward, passing the threshold, before stopping. He's already had his long farewell with his daughter, and he doesn't think he'll be able to survive telling another recount of the tragedy.

"Andromeda," he begins, his voice trembling. "I need your help."

.o0o.

"Sirius," Andromeda calls after him, "What's her name?"

"Name her Nymphadora," he says, before walking off into the night, "For the star."

* * *

 **Word Count: 2953**

* * *

 _ **A/n: Written for the Round 11 of the third season of the Quidditch League, in my capacity as Chaser 2. Task for this round: Take a lyric from the song assigned your team and base your story on it.**_

 _ **My song was Don't Go Breaking My Heart . . . I hated it. But I used the line [Don't go breaking my heart, I couldn't if I tried] I think that it worked out rather well in this story, as Marlene never "tried" to die, and thus break Sirius' heart?**_

 _ **A special thanks to my beta, the amazing Lokilette. She is phenomenal and you should all check out her stories.**_

 _ **And lastly, I want to thank Onyx Feather for giving me the inspiration to write this piece. It's based on a performance by "Attraction" which is a Shadow Dance group, and this story was inspired by the events of their "Read All About It Performance. Onyx and I were talking about the performance, and it led to Sirius and Marlene, and the inspiration to write this struck xD All of you, go check out Onyx Feather, her poetry is amazing and off the chain.**_

 _ **Prompts:**_

 _ **1\. Word - Delicate  
2\. Word - Spoon  
14\. Creature - Dementor**_


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